Barbarian zitrOnoR Seeks Entry to the Order

I am always keen on a challenge of the wits!

 

Safety and Honor to all OSD

 

Congratulations to OLRED on 5*15*2009 he approached me with the answer to my signature binding

sikkerhet og честь
Safety and Honor

I have since crafted and remanded to OLRED's custody a SunSteel Gladius in level 60 The New Stats are 99dps and 107-172 base damage (1.04s)



It is has been bound with the following gems 2x



1X Enfeebling Peridot similar to this in level 60
with tap stamina



Safety and Honor
Silver Dragons

 

Vassal Journey

As I find myself hopping around Hyboria, (it helps to keep me from being Shanked by the defilers) I have skipped to My 5th duty toward my journey ‘s goal. I have recently created an event on the calendar named the Tortage Morning Constitutional.
http://silverdragons-lair.net/forum/calendar.php?do=getinfo&e=1082&day=2009-5-25&c=5
This walk with me will entail much adventure, we will Pillage all the treasure in white Sands, and ....... maybe vanquish a couple of stray aggressors all in the spirit of Safety and Honor, and if the spirit is willing it may just spill into the murky depths of the underhalls.

zitrOnoR

 

Early Morning Walk

The Walk went well, many levels’ of experience were enjoyed by Birget and myself. A new kinship has started and I await Birget’s glory when she slays Strom and returns to her homeland.
Your name translates into the definition protect in Norwiegen, Yet it was I who was honored to be the beskytter for out morning crusade through White Sands.

 

My epic Quest to Vassal

Recitation to this day convey imagery of akin to that of the Life of Baldur, “that all would weep, omit a bitter desolate Hag in a cave.” The tears were not of loss but of the joy, in favor of the eradication of the menace and tyrant Commander MAGNI


and the horrendous War host Grimnir Stormbringer.



Bound to the earthily plane by Eight nails hammered from the ice and remains of fallen Cimmerians, having long feuded with the crimson haired bezerkers of Vanir decent. The unholy spikes were said to have been Hammered by the FROST KING himself YMIR. Having stolen Mjölner from Asghard itself.

as such day found a group of rampageous brethren, A soldier, Guardian of the crown to King CONAN, a Holy man of sorts, healer and bringer of fortune and fortitude to his people a Bear Shaman, accompanied by Nye his kin holy beset to a purpose, Bear Shaman of integrity and honor. And a wayward son beset to no alignment still in his formative years.
Who would ever foretell this barbarian zitrOnoR would find himself beset upon joining the prestigious Order of the Silver Dragons, that he would one day be graced the presence of KING CONAN and even have the opportunity to find himself waiting on Wine and Wenches.



Ah that is an entirely despicable tale, one that will wait to be told after many empty horned flasks of Connell Valley Honey Malt.

The cobwebs that are cast aside to recall these battles are as thick as the Sinew of the Mortal freed son of YMIR



and ridden of the stench of the unclean beast YAKHMAR



I have followed My brethren to perilous heights *note to self get on ladder first, or do not look up unless fair maiden proceeds me*
In effort to help them reach new levels of experience and Items.



I have seen the world atop the highest venues.




And taken flight by means other than winged creature.



I shall no longer face abominations of earth alone, now that I am Aspirant of the Order of the Silver Dragons.




My true quest is to ascend to vassal and beyond I have only the wondrous Crag and peaks set forth me to ascend.

 

Recitan of the Four of Forty

The Brothers Four of the Clan Forty​

By R.A. Ortiz​

AKA zitrOnoR​

When stories are told of father and sons, one ingrains the dissent and disparagement from the Oracles, as Recitan delve in to the accounts of valor and grisly adventure. The lineage of the Celt Iberians has all but evolved and disappeared into the crevices and shadows of only the utmost vivacious mind willing to safe keep and endure such social and cultural importance.
As accountancies’ go, there were brothers Four, from a clan of families numbered in 40 and of an original Hallstatt tribal culture. It is known that the basal Indo-European culture was seasonally nomadic, as the core clan being transhumant cattle-raising pastoralists who were protected by the warrior elite.
The warrior elite were survivors of the original Celt migration and eventual penetration into Cadiz where the last of the of the Aquitania a ferocious and proud race of hereditary warriors lived in symbiotic peace with Iberian farmers and herders as their patriarch and protectors.
Iberians welcomed the safety and comfort provided from marauders and brigandine clad invaders from the east.
The East where the hub of culture was fast growing even bursting into flames from the debauchery and morally repugnant path to secular lifestyles.
As life evolves from the ability to survive the degrade of morals, there emerged a race of nomadic warrior akin to wolves or lupus. These voracious predators found their hierarchy of sustenance. A clan of honorably founded shepherds steeped in simple indulgences. Belief in a higher power, family and the established knowledge of the expectation of freedom.
The Clan of Forty fit, they encircled this wondrous gem. Made it there own, earned gratitude mutually from each other for what they contributed to these beliefs of interpreted prey and predator. For that matter who really was the prey, Either faction knew what they contributed was contrite yet meaningful to both.
As Families emerge whence forth came the brothers Four, a group of siblings beset on endeavoring on all facets of life. Of all zitrOnoR, the eldest was a subtle youth, no man’s master yet subservient to none. Gifted as a craftsmen and savage as rabid lycan he truly was of Vargulf temperaments. His curse was that as Eighth of Eleven first to be son proceeded by Seven Sisters. Of that born to a Nomadic Warrior and a White Witch, the mage was the bounty of raids during her childhood conducted by ThubanVritroTeli.
RhindaKali, cunning yet free of guile, captured as a young northern child, a play thing to MuninOdinGeri son of ThubanVritroTeli Leader to the Clan of Forty.

Our story of trials and tribulations is beset in vengeance due the Clan of Forty. As kin and kind view, theft of young child destine to become a celebrated caster of ages, was heresy. The equality of iniquity would befit the retribution that was to ensue.
A fit man-child was zitrOnoR, at earliest of all ages he displayed abilities astounding to grandfather and father, Able to wield a two Handed Blunt at Five.
He was most abundant in the harvest of many a wild game, the supplier of manually tenderized venison’s, due in skill to stealth and vigor. To run across grass by the hectares in the hopes of encountering a dalliance with game was of own exotic hoard.
Yet cursed, as a child he was shadowed by his Mage matriarch, she knew of the curse, she waited and yet awaits the day of transformation to Vargulf, never to consider the new lineage that may have broken the curse.
Could it be the imbued smell of pitch that held the thatching of the roof of her family domicile? The same type of pitch used to burn clean the cursed lads then born the first son proceed by Seven Sisters.
As the Gaul’s saw fit to abduct the offspring of
RhindaKali they knew not of the domestic makings, and the possible curse of zitrOnoR. A male child was sought after, first born son to MuninOdinGeri that the lineage would be broken and the dissolution of the clan would ensue.
A trap was conscripted to a Stygian Assassin. Extreme orders to not kill or harm the boy, were commanded.
The Gaul’s held the mate of the Stygian captive along their offspring whelp, insurance that the task at hand would have all the focus required to accomplish the deed.



As this day of 37 summers has passed since the abduction, three brothers were sired in efforts to meld the clan unity. As these progeny have matured tasks of duty and honor have been assigned.
Oriclamin a prudent toxophilite Ranger by trade and creed was first sent to track the location of the Stygian abductor.
Of Four male of Eleven offspring Osoghard was the sole benefactor of the traits of his mother, a BearShaman, Healer of the sick and needy his soul is kindred and true. He was to be a shadow to Oriclamin to melee any aggressors that impeded their progress.
And the diminutive final lad TierraOdin, given the name in lineage of his ancestors, he would guard his siblings from murder and defilers alike.



As we bound forward our tale finds us in Tortage, where the scourge of the Barachian seas Strom, has stomped down this jewel of and Isle with tyranny and horror.
Oriclamin has found tales and traces of zitrOnoR and his time on Tortage, together he and Osoghard combat and dig into the history of their Patriarchs adventures.
Mean while TierraOdin has steam rolled through Tortage in a mere fortnight of death and destruction hot on the tails of the true creators of this ordeal, the Vanir, he finds himself centered on attempted siege in Connell Valley.